Persuasion
by Aria Marier
Summary: A Seto/Joey fic. The million dollar question: when is love the right thing? and what happens when you are persuaded to give it up?
1. Cherish

Persuasion  
  
Aria: This is a much different story from the other I'm working on *enter shameless plug for Secrets of a Rose*, but I felt it needed to be done. As so many other writers have done in the past, I'm going to use this medium to work out my own experiences indelibly in metaphors and ink. And, as Seto and Joey are my favorite pairing, they're going to get the brunt of it. This is loosely based on a Jane Austen (my hero...ine?) novel of the same title. Here's the million dollar question for this piece...how can we ever know what choices are right or wrong? How can we tell when love will be forever? And so, I bring to you...Persuasion.  
  
Disclaimer: By no means do I own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the characters in it. By the same token, I own nothing of Jane Austen's except her novels. A side note, after ~~~ are memories, and after *** is the present. Enjoy.  
  
~~~  
  
We laugh, exhilarated, tumbling into each other when we reach the door, a tangle of shaggy-smooth hair and flushed skin, long legs and flashing smiles. Your blue eyes---normally so cold---sparkling so deep and dark. Your breath comes fast against my neck.  
  
Somehow we make it to an empty room---so many rooms, and all of them empty; it is never hard for us to find a place to be alone. How they must have ached before we came to fill them! How I ached before you came, and filled me. Bruises of a thousand tears---mine, my sister's, my friends---they fade away under your touch, under your voice. Not gone, not forever, but a beautiful strain and ache to remind me of before when I didn't have this. We tumble onto soft covers, a bed, you are above me, your weight comfortable and warm---warmer---flaming with passion.  
  
"Ai..." I say. Love. Or maybe you say. It doesn't matter. It's the only word I know to describe the glowing snapping lightheatshineshiverdance in me.  
  
"Always," you say---or did I say? Does it matter? It's the promise we make.  
  
Love. Always.  
  
***  
  
It's been months now. I lean my forehead against the cold glass of the bus window---streaked with gum residue and the thick cigarette smoke that drifts from the back---and watch the town flash by. Not fast enough---the bus driver has been making this trip around, through the town to, from the school for probably longer than even he knows. He doesn't bother being on time---he is getting old and the route slows with him.   
  
Eight months. A lot can happen in eight months, and I don't even expect you to remember what there was before. I can barely remember it myself, maybe because you haven't been around to remind me of it. I remember that your cheeks went white and then red with---anger? I don't know. I vaguely remember knowing every shift of your mood, the buttons that needed to be pushed to make your blue eyes flame, the blazing emotions I could stir...but I don't remember it anymore. I shrug. It's probably just as well.  
  
But I can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't have listened. And it doesn't help that you've come back.  
  
***  
  
You clearly haven't seen me yet. That's good---gives me time to prepare. I knew I'd feel something; anger, maybe, at the way you deserted me all those months ago. I'm not prepared for the total indifference. My heart doesn't limp, my breath doesn't catch. I smirk. You have lost your power over me.  
  
But it isn't the same. You've seen me now, and in your eyes I think I see the reflection of my own lack of feeling. I wait for you to taunt me, to begin our old fights, but you just turn away.  
  
I'm lost. I have no chance even to insult you. Not that I'd want to---the 'puppy' I'd depended on to fire you up now has a totally different meaning.  
  
I understand. You don't know what would happen, and neither do I. We avoid each other, and I watch your friends instead of you.   
  
There are a few newcomers---your sister is finally out of the hospital---but no one I haven't seen before. Your group is so clannish---no matter how friendly they are, they are scared of strangers unbalancing the perfect set-up.   
  
That's it. You're gone, and I don't have to worry anymore about the first sight, the first meeting. I needn't have worried. My suspicions were accurate.   
  
I don't love you anymore.  
  
~~~  
  
There's a moment, always, when you see the person you love, that is when you realize you love them. When you see them in a way that is usually impossible. There's a moment when you look up and they look up and your eyes meet and you can't really say what color their eyes, their hair is, what expression they're wearing; when your heart falters and then beats once strongly pushing warm blood everywhere, your breath stops, every cell in your body pauses.  
  
This is that moment.   
  
We've expressed our hate to the entire audience; but now I've betrayed my love to you, instantly. It's a shame---I didn't realize it existed until now. You're shocked, you don't understand this new insult, this new taunt. We have unfrozen, I have unfrozen, and I don't know how or when.  
  
I growl, your eyes narrow---so honeywarm to your friends, so sharp to me. We have reverted. I feel myself growing taller and if I were to look in a mirror I know my eyes would be blazing---for once, not with hate for you, but rather hate for this sudden confusion.   
  
I drop. "You aren't worth my time, you sniveling puppydog," I sneer. I flee.  
  
You have seen me break, and I don't know what to do.  
  
***  
  
I see you everywhere now, and I am relieved to find that it doesn't bother me---even though the reasons that I see you everywhere are Tea and Serenity. You make them laugh, they make your eyes glow.   
  
Serenity never knew. It's the reason this is working at all...no one knew. Except for us, and Yugi. My best friend in all the world, all the universe---he knew. And I have never been able to place blame on him, or to hate him for how it ended. Like the buddy he is, he looks out for me. He watches my back. He saw something dangerous in us---in you---and he acted. The part of a friend.   
  
I'm grateful to him for that.  
  
Tristan doesn't like it much---he grumbles to me about how much time you're spending with Tea. We were sure they would finally get together---they've been flirting and talking with heads close together for weeks---but then you came, and were so charming that they couldn't help but forget the old Kaiba, and fall in love with the new one.  
  
I'm called on to play my old role, of course, but I don't mind. I've changed too, in these past months. Quieter, maybe, less quick to lose my temper. But still proud---I still walk like I own the whole world...even if I don't care about it.  
  
Something I learned from you.   
  
I don't think I've ever seen you so in control. Even in those days of our matches in the hallways, the parking lot, the streets, you never held yourself like this. You walk around the school with Serenity and Tea hanging on your every word---grudgingly accepted into our circle by Tristan, cautiously and then whole-heartedly by Yugi. We don't mind your being here---you're something new. At least to them.  
  
***  
  
I can't help but feel smug. I came back here, and immediately two beautiful girls fall all over me. The way they used to. And do you know what? I'm enjoying it, for the first time in years.   
  
I've thought of you for so long, and it unspeakably soothing to be sought after once again. I'm not oblivious to your friend's glares, or their possessiveness, and I don't mean to make this into anything...but, oh, how sweet it is. And maybe I will make my choice from these two loving girls.  
  
Tea, so loyal and almost fierce---she melts in the most amazing manner. It's hard to see, since she used to oppose me so strongly.  
  
And Serenity.  
  
Your sister.  
  
She's so unlike you in so many ways---doesn't have the toughness, the resilience you've tried so hard to build. She looks at me through those clear eyes that you fought to save, and I almost feel myself thawing.  
  
Almost.  
  
~~~  
  
I'm confused. I thought I saw weakness in those sea-clear eyes of yours, and I don't know what it means. This isn't in the script---it is unexpected and so is this feeling of sudden reckless collapse. I'm collapsing into you, falling into you.  
  
I ring your doorbell. I don't know what I'm doing, but it seems obvious I can't do nothing.  
  
You aren't at home, and I am delighted, totally crushed. I don't know another move---I'm at a stalemate.  
  
The night is warm, and walking home isn't a problem, except for the weird feeling of the pavement curling, liquid, under my feet when I see what looks like your coat up in front of me, flapping moodily behind someone who looks just like you.  
  
It is you. And now it isn't just the pavement curling and falling in on itself, it's my chest, my ribcage. The same feeling I get when we fight, but I've only just recognized it. I don't have time to wonder---you are already walking past me. I have to do something.  
  
I trip you. You stumble, your long legs and reverie causing you to thud heavily onto the treacherous pavement. You look around, and up.   
  
I want to give you a hand, help you up, but you'd never forgive me for that. My face is warm, but the blue light from---your eyes---the night sky hides it. I stand above you, uncomfortably as you slowly glare up at me.  
  
I suddenly realize that you have come from my house.   
  
You look away, ashamed.   
  
The pavement tosses me. I extend a hand to balance myself, but it brushes your shoulder, and you turn. Take it. You almost pull yourself up, but the world has inexplicably stopped.  
  
You smile.  
  
~~~  
  
Aria: The first installment! Please, let me know what you think. This won't be a long story, and it was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I want to get reviews for this. Some notes---I know I used 'ai' for 'love', the simple explanation being that I think it's something like that in Japanese anyway, and I'm much better with Chinese than with the pieces of Japanese I've picked up from other fics. Also, I apologize if it's too OOC, but I feel it works best this way. Please read and review! 


	2. Every

Aria: Hello again! And thanks to the *counts* four reviewers! I hope some more of you come around, but I'm glad you guys like it so far. Since this isn't a silly fic, I won't be opening with silly jokes, but I DO still need a disclaimer. So here it is...once again, I don't, and won't, own YGO. Or Jane Austen, or any of her property, except for the books that I cherish. Also, I know that the time continuity is a little screwy, but go with it. To help you out, until I can figure out how to keep the italics, everything after ~~~ is a memory, and everything after *** is the present. So here we go...part two of Persuasion.  
  
~~~  
  
There's a feeling you get, when you shift and realize your leg has been asleep, because the pricking coolness of blood rushes through your veins, and it's like you've never felt your leg before, because now you can feel every vein, every pulse of blood and its path.  
  
That is how I feel now, as my hand touches yours.  
  
I don't know what to do, what to think, so I don't. I pull on you, and you almost lose your balance but you steady enough that I can stand up.   
  
Except then, I almost fall over again, almost trip without even moving because your eyes right now are the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced.  
  
You let go of my hand, and self-consciously wipe it down the side of your shirt, looking away. We're not fighting, not yelling, not taunting. This silence is freezing me solid; my ribcage is suddenly too small.  
  
I wonder, vaguely, when I started loving you, when the burn stopped being stubborn hate and started being this flaring heat that is trying to move in me. Does it matter when? It doesn't matter how when wherewhy---it only is.  
  
We haven't spoken yet, and this unusual quiet is unnerving you, unnerving me. But I won't break. I can't make this move, Pup. It doesn't work that way, I don't work that way, the world can't work that way. I am watching you almost---please---longingly now, and you step back, run long fingers through thick shaggy-smooth hair. You're about to speak.   
  
I can't let you say anything, if you say something, this will end and we will part and I will shake this off and never think of it except for deep dark nights---mornings---when I can't sleep and flashes of cold shiver through my blood.  
  
But I don't know how to stop you. I have to.  
  
I can't.  
  
***  
  
Yesterday, you had me convinced. I had me convinced. Today, a second, a minute, an eternity ago I thought I saw through it, but now I'm not so sure. You came back. You are charming my friends. You are charming my sister.  
  
You still care for me.  
  
In the hallway, at school, I am at my locker and I find you waiting. You startle from your place, leaning coolly against the smooth metal, and shake a lock of deep brown silky hair out of your suddenly---panicked---embarrassed eyes. I understand. You thought you were waiting for Serenity, you saw her here before, and after that first glance---hello---our eyes slide from each other and we both pretend we are somewhere else. You move away, stare into a distance only you can see.  
  
I used to see it.   
  
It used to be me.  
  
My shirt is suddenly too tight, my shoulders not strong enough to support the weight of my arms---silly, since I used to be able to wrestle you to the floor, used to take pride in the elastic strength of my muscles---but it doesn't matter. I'm used to you here, now, and that is my moment until my knee suddenly hits the cold---harder than it looks---metal with surprising force.  
  
It'll hurt later but now I'm too surprised. I want to turn, glare, slam this new threat into the metal that is still vibrating from the contact with my bone, but as I begin to move, the pressure on my back is suddenly gone, and I turn to see the material of your coat flatten against your back as you take the punk by the back of the shirt and walk him down the hall.  
  
I understand, I see, even if---though---you don't. You hate me---worse, ignore me, but you've noticed my discomfort, acted. Probably without realizing it.   
  
I remember how I hated the role you chose of bodyguard. I couldn't stand the thought of your smooth pale body being beaten in my place---we wrestled, fought. You were as strong as me, stronger, sometimes.  
  
You asked me what kind of master would let his puppy be beaten, would let his puppy be hurt. What kind of master wouldn't protect.  
  
I smile. I know that you don't know what just happened---but it's beginning to come back.  
  
I remember.  
  
***  
  
Sitting alone in my house doesn't mean the same, now, as it used to. It is still as empty as ever, even with little brother off to school doesn't change it that much. I was often alone here, but it was never so lonely as it is now.  
  
I hate to admit it, but I need someone to fill this place, echo laughter off these polished wood panels, walk on these rich, thick carpets. The hum of my computer isn't enough for me anymore, and I can't stand that it's because of you.  
  
Because when you were here, the emptiness was suddenly used, filled, needed for all your life and passions and flaring presence. Coming back to this feels unimaginably, horribly wrong---if you've never noticed something isn't there, you don't need it.  
  
But now I've seen this emptiness.  
  
And I need something to fill it, because I can't do it by myself anymore.  
  
I think of your sister, how her thick red hair shifts forward in sliding layers until she pushes it back with a long fingered hand, how her eyes are so calm and clear, like a pool that has many-colored pebbles softly lining the bottom. Not like your eyes---they are like autumn, like gold light glinting off of rusted leaves, like honey, like wheat.   
  
But I won't think of you. And even when I do---because I'm thinking of your sister and she reminds me of you, sometimes---I wait to feel that shiver of heat in my chest, and when it doesn't come, I am satisfied, and think of your sister's voice, so sweet and soft, so unlike your loud bravado, the grinning laughing tone of your voice.  
  
And now when the shiver comes I smile.  
  
Serenity is affecting me more than I thought.  
  
I must be falling in love.  
  
~~~  
  
There's something incurably awkward about the way we are standing here---maybe it's because we aren't fighting like we usually are, and you aren't looking at me the way you usually do, the way I'm used to. Your eyes, instead of being so cold and distant, are glowing---asking---your face, normally so guarded, is beginning to open, and I'm suddenly terrified.   
  
Like this afternoon, you are changing right in front of me, and I'm starting to realize that there is something else to you---us---than these fights, these insults.   
  
I want to say something, but I don't know what. I don't want to tell you that while you were at my front door, I was at yours---don't want to tell you that tonight I will be alone in an empty and broken house and that suddenly the thing I want most is to go back with you, stay with you in your massive empty mansion, because we could sure both use some company tonight.  
  
I'm watching you, and I can't believe it but is that---panic I see in your eyes? What are you scared of, Kaiba? There is real terror in your face---I can almost hear your heart thudding from here.  
  
But your eyes leave mine before I can ask---I am relieved without warning, grateful that you didn't make me point out your sudden weakness. And now you look back at me, daring me to speak, daring me to be the one who breaks this silence. I'm confident. This is familiar ground, this test of wills and I stare back until I notice that your hand is moving, you are delicately removing a strand of hair that has fallen onto my shoulder, and holding it carefully between two long fingers you bring it slowly away from where it clings to the thin fabric of my shirt. You look at it, and I look at you, and I can't help it, I fall towards you---or that's what it feels like, anyway, falling even though I guess technically I haven't moved---so I have to reach forward to balance myself, make sure I don't hit you and send us both tumbling to the ground, but my hands hit your shoulders with more force than I thought and I have to pull you so that you don't fall again and now you are only a few centimeters away---we've been this close once, during a particularly violent fight where you turned---faster than I expected---and slammed me into a wall, pushed your face up close to mine and whispered taunts in that rough voice of yours but somehow---somehow this is closer. Too close, I'm still falling forward and you---too surprised by my movement to step back---you are pulled irrevocably toward me by---what's that law of physics?  
  
I have time to see the grateful look in your eyes before we finally meet and I'm clinging to you, still fighting this feeling of falling, but your arms are there, steadying me, your hands are there, flat against my back, warm. I wish I knew what is happening, but I don't even have time to wonder how, if I was never really falling at all, I am standing here pressed against you, or why, if I was never moving, I pulled you to me because I make a decision and bend my head before I really know what's going on---your breath is sweet, warm---I can't lose you. I won't.  
  
I bend.  
  
This kiss surprises me---the movements of your mouth surprise me, thrill me. I would never have guessed that your lips would be soft, that you would lean into me like you're doing now, that beneath that wildly flapping coat you wear your heart thuds as quickly and as hard as mine when someone runs a hand up your back, over the skin of your neck and into your hair.  
  
There's something undeniably weird about standing here, clinging to you, and having you cling to me, like you really need---want---me, after all the fights we've had, all the seconds minutes eternities spent hating you---at the last second, I've discovered something new and different, surprising and achingly, gloriously, truly sweet.  
  
I love you.  
  
***  
  
Mondays are never fun, but I hurt for you today---you never saw this coming. Or maybe you did, and you just didn't pay attention.  
  
That's something you would do, I think. If the world isn't working the way you want it too, you just ignore it until you can figure out how to change things in your favor. I smile.  
  
I'm starting to remember---mainly because this exasperated look on your face is so familiar, and it almost hurts that someone else meant enough to you to put it there, but I smirk in your direction and thump Tristan on the shoulder. He's too happy to feel it---standing there grinning like an idiot because Tea said she'd go out with him. They're almost insufferably cute, but I deal with it.  
  
It's worth it to see the annoyed surprise on your face. I know that you thought you didn't really care, and you probably didn't, but it's always a little disconcerting when someone suddenly completely shifts their attention to someone else, isn't it?  
  
But you're not worried.  
  
You've still got Serenity.  
  
I wonder how much longer I can go without breaking---she comes and tells me about you, asks me what the phrases and tones that you use mean. Her eyes glow---you make her heart pulse, make her head swim. She tells me, expecting the classic older brother refusals, the comic protector, and I do my best to give it to her, mocking you whenever you give me a good chance---which is most of the time---glaring at you across the room while she smiles and waves.  
  
I don't want to do this---pretend that this jealous older brother I am playing is less than an act than they all think it is. They know me, know my exaggerations; they expect a comic performance, a confident bluff over the reality of my softness. They know I would never oppose my baby sister in anything, and that's where you think you have me, don't you?   
  
Because, this time, it isn't an act. I am the jealous older brother.  
  
But I'm jealous of her. And now I'm aching because of all the people I love most, I never thought she'd be the one to hurt me. So I play this part that is eating me inside, eating me until the only thing that fills me now is a sort of permanent numbness, because I've lost this move.  
  
And I still have to keep going.  
  
You understand and play your part---you know that if she were to know about us, it would ruin everything---but it feels forced, now. The arguments, the public fights that we are trying to fall back into---a mockery of eight months ago when your words still stung, burned. Now, they mean nothing.   
  
Just like us.  
  
***  
  
It's hard to see---believe---how much you've changed. You try so hard to still play the fool, to keep the enthusiasm and fierce being you had before, but you seem tired, now. Beaten down.  
  
I never thought---in all those times when what I wanted most in the universe, what I needed above anything else, was to break you, beat you, crack that easy, fierce confidence of yours, I never could and now it's happened anyway, and I hardly know you. It's a shame, really, but there's nothing I can do about it.  
  
We are walking with your friends, and as I turn to smile at Serenity, to take her hand, I see, out of the corner of my eye, someone stop and watch us. No---I look closer.   
  
Watch you.  
  
"Joey!" she cries, and walks quickly over, her violet eyes glowing. Something in me snaps when you lift your eyes, shake your bangs from your face and see her---and smile. Really smile. I haven't seen you smile in months.   
  
Not since that last afternoon.  
  
"Mai!" you say, and hug her. I watch her hand flatten against your back. You pull away, hold her by the arms and look at her. "It's been forever. How've you been?"  
  
The others rush over to her, all talking at once, and she smiles and chats with them as we continue on our walk, but I see her eyes sliding over to you, almost disbelievingly, I watch her watching you. She moves beside you and walks there, her golden hair swinging easily down her back. You are talking together, laughing together---I see that spark in your eyes starting to glint again, and my own narrow.  
  
I grasp Serenity's hand a little tighter.  
  
Tomorrow I will make my next move.  
  
~~~  
  
It's incredible, this feeling of absolute, total release. Your face is warm against mine and I feel the air stroke my cheeks as you pull away, cross-eyed. We are staring at each other, I am sucked into the light in your eyes---I want to touch it, to be it, to create it for you. Unbelievingly, my hand creeps up, hesitates, touches the soft smooth skin where your jaw meets your neck, and I bring my thumb along your jawline wonderingly.   
  
You take a step back, my heart twists as I see---fear? apprehension? confusion?---in your eyes. You're suddenly unsure of yourself, and you look down to where my hand has fallen against my coat. You tilt you head down, I can't see your face behind those thick bangs of yours, and I am about to panic when you shift uncomfortably.  
  
I relax. I understand. You want to say something, and you don't know what, or how, or even why. I'll take this bullet for you, Pup.  
  
My hand comes up and I rub the back of my neck---where your hand had been, hot against my skin, a second ago---you look up, waiting---I'll make the move, this time.  
  
"I went to your house," I confess, and look away. My voice is rougher than I expected, breaking our warm silence, and I wonder, panicked, whether you meant to talk at all or not. For am awful, heavy second that is really forever I think I've done the wrong thing, made the wrong move but then you grin. Light and easiness flood me. I can breathe again.  
  
"I went to yours," you say, and I nod. It's the obvious conclusion now, although I hadn't known it before. You look a little uncomfortable---start to speak, fall silent. I wait. I know you, and you always rise to the occasion when it comes to words.  
  
"Is it always that empty?" you ask.   
  
I have to think about it---you've surprised me, and I realize I hadn't ever thought about it, but I nod. "Yes," I tell you. "It always is."  
  
It's another stalemate, another silence, but now I know what I want and I'm going to take it---I won't see you go back to that empty, beaten house of yours, and I'm not going back to my hollow mansion without you to fill it.  
  
I step towards you. Your eyes flicker, but you stand your ground. I'm proud---it takes courage, but you have that more deeply than I ever will---I look into your face, study you, note the soft shading of your cheek, the defiance in your eyes. You'd think we'd just had another fight, instead of---  
  
I have to see if it's true.  
  
My hand goes up your arm, catches in your thick hair---I lean my forehead   
against yours.  
  
"Come with me." I look into your eyes---behind the pride that masks your confusion; behind the defiance and the fierce beauty of them I can see that flame flicker.  
  
"Please."  
  
You slowly smile.  
  
***  
  
Aria: Well, that's chapter two. Man, that took a lot out of me...while writing this, I'm trying to remember what it's like to first be in love, before the fights and before the normalcy. There's something so electric in real love, where every touch, every look means something. I hope you liked it...please review! Reviews make me happy and keep me writing! 


	3. Moment

Aria: *does a little dance* 10 reviews! Wow! I'm so excited. You guys make my day. So, let me, before I finish this fic, thank them...  
  
Taito-kisses: My first reviewer! I'm glad you like it. And I will continue! This is the last chapter, but I'll definitely keep writing fics. Thanks for the support.  
  
Jkb: Be as vulgar as you like---that kind of vulgarity I can live with. So psyched you like it this much. *blushes*  
  
Padget Quinn: You read Secrets, too! You MUST be my biggest fan. Thanks.  
  
Echo: Here's the continuation you asked for---I hope you've enjoyed these last two chapters!  
  
Daisy: I'm glad you---and your yami---like this. Sorry about the slight confusion---I'll try to remedy that.  
  
Ryan_Ookami: *blushes madly* Thanks for the great review! I'm so glad you like my writing. And I have definite plans of continuing.  
  
Hyatt Insomnia: I hope you get better soon! I'm glad you like my story.   
  
To all: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I hope to look into many of your stories, and I hope you'll keep reading mine!  
  
Once again, the story will be split between memories (after the ~) from Joey and Kaiba, and present scenes (after the *). This chapter will wrap up the story---I hope you've enjoyed it! And so, here it is, the final chapter of   
  
PERSUASION  
  
~~~  
  
This is too fantastic to be real, and I almost laugh---I would laugh, if it weren't for the fact that, even if this is a dream, I don't want to hurt you or chase you away with any sign of mockery. If it is a dream, it's the best one yet, and I don't want it to end just now. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feeling of your long fingers weaving gently through my hair, the slightly spicy scent of your skin, how my heart is thudding so hard I think I must be bruising you.   
  
You shift, my eyes open slightly---I am still unwilling to awaken from this dream, but your eyes are so---beautiful---worried, you are worried that you've gone too far---you are worried---Seto Kaiba, afraid of rejection? It's almost laughable, and I can't quite keep it in this time, so a reluctant smile creeps out.   
  
Your eyes widen. Is this a good sign? Your hand, cool and strong and so gently moving, pauses for a moment, stiffens.  
  
"Pup," you say. "Please." Again. You pause---are you rallying for some leap of faith, or some challenge you have suddenly decided to face?   
  
"I need this," you tell me, and your eyes shift from side to side, following mine, watching for a change in emotion, in situation, in anything that might make you regret what you've just said. You're in deep now---but it almost seems like you don't know it yet.  
  
I shrug.  
  
"What the hell," I say, as casually as I can, but you smile, and I know you're seeing me glow. If it's a dream, then I'm going with it. If it's not---  
  
I won't get another chance like this again.  
  
***  
  
"Bakura?" Ahead of us, lavender white hair shakes as Yugi's voice calls out. He looks around, dark poet's eyes surprised and widened. We move towards him in a clump of loud chatter, and even though he scares me sometimes, I'm glad to see him. He takes attention away from my direction, so I no longer see Yugi looking over at how Mai is suddenly pushed up against my shoulder. Her pale golden hair loops over my shoulder and brushes against my chest.   
  
I smile. I hope you're seeing this.  
  
"Bakura, where have you been, man?" This from Tristan, who is still holding onto Tea's hand like she's going to make a run for it the second he lets go.  
  
She smiles sweetly.  
  
"We haven't seen you in ages! How have you been?"  
  
Bakura stutters a bit, and looks awkward, his dark eyes wide and nervous. His skin seems paler than usual, translucent. Not that he ever looked healthy, but now it seems like a good gust of wind would knock him over now, and he wouldn't even whimper.  
His hand moves quickly to the shimmering golden ring on his chest, but then snaps away as if stung. He looks down and away, like he's ashamed of something.  
  
"I've been busy," he mutters. We give a collective shrug, except for Yugi, who looks at those deep eyes a bit more closely.  
  
"I guess," he says slowly, then that big, bright grin he has spreads over his face. "Well, come along with us now!" he says, and grabs Bakura's arm.   
  
Did I see him wince?   
  
The shy smile begins to form on Bakura's lips, and I shake my head. Seeing things, I guess.  
  
A small hand slips down my arm and entwines its slim fingers with my rough ones. I look up, surprised, into Mai's big violet eyes. She's beaming at me, and for a second I entertain a thought of the stability of her mental state---there's no other excuse for her suddenly flirtatious behavior---but then it feels so nice to have a smooth, warm hand in mine, and it's soothing the ache I get from seeing your hand brushing casually through Serenity's long, shining red hair. My heart twists, and I turn to Mai, take refuge in the beautiful eyes, in the glory of golden hair. She smiles brilliantly at me as we talk, and all I want to do is lose myself in her gorgeous eyes, to smile freely, to laugh at her jokes.  
  
But all I see is you, walking ahead of us, your hand clasped in my sister's.  
  
Mai, I'm sorry. There was a time when I would have killed for this. But, of course, you never looked at me then. And now I'm not worth the effort that you're making.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
***  
  
Something tells me I'm losing this game. I would look back, but the grin on your face and the interest in her eyes are just too painful---and it makes me wonder if I've really left you behind after all, or if you've somehow stuck with me through those eight long months. I look over at Serenity, who smiles---serenely---up at me. I try to smile back, but I can't force myself to. Suddenly all I want is the old burning hate, the trite rivalry of the old times---when I could insult you and all it meant was that I insulted you. When I wasn't fooling myself with your sister. When Yugi wasn't watching me---you---us---out of those wide innocent eyes of his.   
  
At least that creepy alter ego of his, Yami, is staying out of this. I have no doubt that he'd blow the whole secret with one misplaced challenge.  
  
Mai laughs behind me---you must have said something funny, done something funny---I remember how you used to force me to laugh.   
  
You said you lived to make me smile.  
  
I drop Serenity's hand---her smile falters, her eyes question---I look away. I hate seeing your expressions in her eyes. They make me hate myself---something you made me stop doing.   
  
I have to get away. An excuse comes roughly from my throat---I say something about the company and tug myself away from her, from you. The others barely notice---Tristan is still wrapped up in Tea and Yugi is busy interrogating Bakura, who looks terrified. I don't look at you as I walk away---I can't bear to see the triumph in your eyes.  
  
The wind drags at my coat, and I make sure my back is straight and that I'm standing tall. My decision has been made, and you should all know it as soon as possible. I think of Serenity, and for an instant feel guilt, feel pain---but it passes. She's very sweet---she doesn't deserve to get caught up in this the way I am forcing her to.  
  
The way you've forced me to. For a second the old heat flares in me---my breath catches, my eyes narrow---the road ahead of me clouds slightly. How dare you---how dare you do this to me. How dare you linger in my head and then appear again eight long---desolate---months later with that same smirk plastered on your idiotic face. That I used to love.   
  
I walk faster.  
  
How could I have loved such an incompetent fool? You stumble over the simplest concepts---blinded by your loyalties and your passions.  
  
I smirk to myself---those same loyalties and passions used to burn in me, for just a little while.   
  
When I had you.  
  
My mansion looms up ahead of me, and I slam the gate behind me---stomp over the manicured front lawn to the door. Inside, it smells clean---cool, spice-laden air brushes against me as I go to a couch and collapse on it.  
  
This has to end.  
  
~~~  
  
Silence between us again---and this time I don't dare break it. The night is warm against me---your shoulder when it brushes suddenly against mine is warm. You look up apologetically, but don't meet my eyes. Awkwardness has settled comfortably over us, and my face burns more with each step we take closer to my house.   
  
I don't know what I expect---what I'd really enjoy---I think---is a long talk with you. I have a sudden vision of us settled in the squashy leather couch in my favorite room, watching a movie, maybe, or listening to music. Or playing a game of some kind. I have a sudden, urgent desire to understand you---all your life and passion must come from something---what is it that makes you live each day with the kind of fiery energy that you have? It would exhaust me before the week was out.  
  
I try to look over, but I can't, and I feel my cheeks flare even more when you stumble slightly and crash softly into me.   
  
"Sorry," you mutter, and I nod, my hand outstretched to balance you---but you don't use it. All right, I can deal with that. My hand drops back to my side, and we continue walking.  
  
"So," you say, bravely breaking the silence. I smile in spite of myself---I have nothing to say, but I can't wait to hear your next attempt.  
  
"Do you...go out walking a lot?" A little pathetic, but a good try, nonetheless.  
  
"I do sometimes," I say. Silence. I attempt to elaborate. "When I have time. The company keeps me very busy."  
  
"Yeah, I can see how avoiding those backstabbing corporate types would keep you on your toes," you say lightly. It strikes home---I have a sudden, vivid and not entirely painless recollection of what those backstabbing corporate types did to my little brother---and to me. I have nothing to say, and you seem to realize, belatedly, that you've said something not entirely appropriate.  
  
I relax a little, and I want to smile---but it's sort of fun watching you squirm like this. After all---it's too strange for us to be moving straight from fights and insults to long, in-depth conversations about our lives and motivations.  
  
Blessedly, the mansion is around the next corner---I almost sigh, but it wouldn't do for you to see me lose control too many times. I palm the gate open and gesture for you to walk in, and you do, a little slowly and carefully---like you don't want to break anything.  
  
I brush past you to turn on a light---but I pause, because you smell spicy and clean and delicious and your eyes turn to me, wide and glowing and deep. Time stops.  
  
I struggle to regain my composure, because you're looking at me, puzzled. Did I say something? Did I do something? I'm not sure, so instead I turn away from you and run my hand over the wall, looking for the light switch. I find it just as a hand comes from out of nowhere and slides up my side, across my stomach. I hesitate---my eyes close at your touch and you run your palm slowly over my stomach and move up close behind me. Your breath comes warm against my back---I feel your hair, scruffy and softer than it looks against the skin of my neck---you're a little shorter than I am, so I imagine you, feel you moving up against my back as you stand on your toes, stretch and bring your other hand up, move the hair from the nape of my neck and brush your lips softly against the skin there. I can't help it---a long, shuddering breath escapes me, and my hand drops from the light switch.  
  
Who is in control here?  
  
All I know in the next few moments is burning, blazing desire flaming up my spine and I turn and grab you forcefully---you look shocked, but an answering flare flickers in the honey-depth of your eyes and I know you like it---the shock of your body slamming into the opposite wall snaps into my own, I hear the breath as it is knocked from your lungs but then I am up against you, moving into you and I hear roaring in my ears when you look up at me with darkened eyes---I close mine quickly and bend to your waiting mouth, open it, cherish it and you and every movement you make against me.  
  
If this is hate---then I will never hate again.  
  
But this burning blaze---so like the hate that used to fuel our fights---this is different in some incredible, undeniable way.  
  
I breathe it against your mouth, against your skin. "Joey. Love..."  
  
And feel you whisper it back, your warm breath vibrating softly against my mouth, against my skin. "Seto. Love..."   
  
I thrill to your voice saying my name---I've never loved my name the way I do now, when you speak it.   
Love.  
  
Always.  
  
***  
  
You walk away with hardly a word, and even when I see the hurt in my sister's eyes I can't help but feel relieved. I'm used to you, now, but it stills aches a bit when you look up suddenly or give one of your rare smiles or when I see your coat flapping behind you as you walk away from me.  
  
"Joey?"  
  
I only realize I've been staring, watching you leave, when Mai puts a slim hand lightly on my shoulder. I turn to her and smile.  
  
Two can play at this game.  
  
Ahead of us, Yugi and Bakura are joined by Serenity. I watch, amused, as she tries to pull smiles out of Bakura's shy face. My sister, the soft touch. Show her something vulnerable and afraid, and she protects it and cares for it with a fierceness that no one ever suspects. I've seen her look at starving puppies and abandoned kittens with the same fierce sympathy that she has now, looking at Bakura. Not that the guy couldn't use it---he has the look of death on him, somehow. Like he doesn't eat; or is slowly bleeding his life away.  
  
I shake my head, and see only Bakura, pale and thin, to be sure, but smiling and almost happy.   
  
And that's my last thought before the speeding blue blur of a car comes and tries to wipe my sister out of existence.  
  
All I see is blue, I hear a long and terrifying note sound as the driver spins out of control and Tea screams. I want to tell her to be quiet, but my vision has gone suddenly red because the car is spinning right in front of me and even though I didn't hear Serenity scream, I know that it was headed right for her.  
  
I don't hear a thud, or a crack, or any sickening noise that would tell me whether or not my sister were dead or alive, but the car has come to a sliding halt and when I run around I see that it glanced her as it hit the curb, that she's lying at an odd angle on the cement of the sidewalk and doesn't move, doesn't open her eyes when I fall beside her and call out her name.  
  
A man gets shakily out of the car, tears running down his face, in shock and looking like he's about to pass out. He mumbles something about the brakes, about losing control, staring at the crumpled heap that is my sister with the expression of a doomed man.  
  
I yell her name---tears are streaming down my face and hitting her jacket, but I don't care because I can see now that her chest is still moving---she breathes---she lives---I yell for someone to call for an ambulance and look up to find that Bakura is already on the phone, giving directions and specifics in a calm, breaking voice. His eyes are wide with fear, and his skin seems paler than ever, but I could have kissed him for the presence of mind I'd never suspected he had.  
  
Leaving Tea sobbing into Tristan's arms, Yugi and Bakura and I pile into the back of the ambulance with Serenity and the cool, sympathetic EMT. She refuses to answer my questions about the injuries, but one of her glove-coated hands rests for a second on my sister's pale forehead and I feel that everything will be all right.  
  
"Oh Serenity," I mumble into her hair. "We just got you out of the hospital---and now you're heading back into it.  
  
And then the thought strikes me---any money we had---that prize that Yugi gave me at Duelist Kingdom---that was all used up on her operation and medical care. We have no money for hospital bills, for surgery, for anything. We barely have money for school lunch---buying milk and bread and peanut butter for the kitchen back home almost broke me.  
  
And the only person I know who can help is you.  
  
When I show up at your door in the evening, I hesitate to ring the doorbell, but I shouldn't have, because when I hesitate a million memories of this place rush back to me, and I have to fight to keep them from spilling out as tears loosened by the accident.  
  
I ring the bell, and knock three times for good measure. It takes a little while for you to get to the door---I have the sudden feeling that you don't get many visitors and weren't expecting anyone at all tonight---least of all me.  
  
So when your door opens and you stand there, I watch as your expression changes from your usual neutral gaze to surprise to---something, to a closed, cold look that I've seen once before. You say nothing, but I'm about to break down right here in front of you, not even inside on a soft couch or away from prying eyes---so I push past you impatiently, into the entrance hall, but from here I don't know what to do. I remember how to get anywhere in this huge empty house of yours, but I don't dare push you too far---not until you know why I've come.  
  
You turn, that queer, closed expression still on your face as the door swings shut and now I don't now if I can hold it in but I have to try, so I keep my voice steady as I tell you that there's been an accident, and now the tears are coming anyway, but I wipe them away, suddenly angry, and the closed expression vanishes like smoke.  
  
***  
  
"What happened?" My mind is totally numbed, but I feel that something important has just happened, and so I struggle to keep the ringing in my ears from blocking out what you are trying to say. "What accident? Joey, what's going on?"  
  
I watch your hands clench and unclench as you try to fight back hysterics---I have a sudden desire to wrap you in my arms and smother those sobs that threaten to break out any second---I've never seen you like this, and your voice breaks against me, ragged with sobs, chattering like you're frozen to the core.  
  
"It's Serenity---oh God, Se-Seto, it's Serenity and I don't have any money to help her so---so I thought maybe you could help and and and I've left her at the hospital to come here---"  
  
You look up, and if the way you said my name just then hadn't broken my heart than the way you look right now would. I want to reach out, but I refrain. What would you think?  
  
"Calm down," I say, but my voice is shaking. I throw my coat back on and take out my phone. "We're going over now."  
  
In the car, you've calmed down enough to tell me what happened, and your voice shakes a little but I have to admire your stability. No wonder Serenity came to rely on you the way she does---a little of her hero-worship seems to make sense now. I listen quietly, and think about what to do, how to make sure she has the best care, what happens if something is seriously wrong. I'm shaken, and I don't like it, but what's surprising is that I'm almost more concerned for your welfare than for hers. That mask of toughness has settled back over you, and you look away, realizing that to thank me would be to go against your better judgment. I see the struggle, and so look out the window as silence grows between us.   
  
As the car pulls up to the hospital, we leave it at a run and make a beeline for the desk. After you try alternately pleading, threatening, and tricking the receptionist, I shove you aside and mention a few choice comments about my own situation and my relationship with your family---although I say we are connected, I stop almost too abruptly and almost blush at the idea of those connections. You've gone silent and I can only assume that the same thoughts have crossed your mind. I glare at the woman, and she blanches.  
  
"Certainly, Mr. Kaiba, sir," she stammers, and her fingers flutter over the keyboard. She looks up, nervous, but with the information we need. I nod to her and pull you along, down the white sterile hallways and into the stairwell where I start up a flight but you grab my sleeve. I turn.  
  
You're looking away.   
  
"Thanks, Kaiba," you mutter, and something inside me twists.  
  
"Don't think I did this for you, Wheeler." It comes out before I can stop it, but it's probably just as well. You pale, then flush, like I slapped you. I glare at you---I can feel myself freezing up again, and I hate myself for it, but I suddenly remember the way you told me we had to end it eight months ago. You wouldn't look at me then, either, and all I could do was watch you tell me that you were leaving.  
  
I found out later that you'd been persuaded by Yugi to give me up---he didn't think it was healthy, didn't think it was right for you to be involved with someone like me. I wasn't worth his precious Joey's time and effort and love---that wasn't be so bad---but you listened.   
  
And I can't forgive you for it.   
  
So I look at you coldly, and then turn away, move up the stairs with you in silence---but in the back of my mind I know I'm doing the wrong thing.  
  
I just wish I knew what the right one was.  
  
***  
  
It's been a week, and I haven't seen you since that day in the hospital, although I know you've been around---helping from behind the scenes. I wonder, dully, what kept you away from Serenity---if the person I loved had been nearly killed I would have been there for every second of their recovery---but you made your excuses and haven't visited once.  
  
At least not when I was there.  
  
And now I'm sitting at school, looking out the window and thinking about this---us---you.   
  
Tristan comes by and slaps me on the back; I turn and grin up at him. He leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets and starts chatting. I listen but I don't hear a word he says, because you've just entered the room and sat down a few desks away. I see you, out of the corner of my eye, take out paper and a pen and start writing. I look back at Tristan and am surprised to see that he's looking at you, too, with---is that pity on his face?  
  
"Tristan?"  
  
"Man, I almost pity the poor sucker," he says, turning back and grinning at me. I glare.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
He starts. "You mean---you didn't know? About Serenity? And Bakura?"  
  
I look at him. No way.  
  
He looks surprised. "How---never mind. I guess he's been visiting her a lot and keeping her company---and now they're a couple."  
  
Now my jaw drops. "You're kidding."  
  
He shakes his head.  
  
"Serenity and Bakura?" I can't really wrap my mind around this, but I don't want to think too hard because somewhere in the back of my head is the knowledge that you're free, and I don't dare think about it because the feeling is too much like joy, senseless, total, complete and insane joy.  
  
"Wow." I shake my head.   
  
Tristan shrugs. "Guess this means you can go back to hating Kaiba in peace, huh?"  
  
Did you stiffen? Are you listening?   
  
I shrug and force a laugh. "I guess."  
  
Tristan leans back again and looks out the window. "Funny how love works, huh?" I shrug. I have nothing to say on the subject.  
  
"Speaking of which," he begins, and gives me a small look. "I hear Yugi's been trying to get you with Mai."  
  
I roll my eyes. "She isn't my type."  
  
He laughs. "Are you kidding? She's blonde and beautiful. She's everybody's type. Besides, I thought you've been in love with her all year, or something."  
  
I smile. "No, not with her. She's fun, but no."  
  
He turns to me, curious. "So who've you been mooning about, then? You've been acting weird all year. What, did you get your heart broken, or something?" He laughs, and I laugh with him.   
  
"Something like that."  
  
"Man," he says, "a few days ago, I would have told you to get over it, but now---"   
  
I wait, intrigued. He continues jerkily, his eyes at a distance.   
  
"I don't know...but I remember a while ago, last fall, maybe, you were acting all funny and when I asked you what was wrong with you, you just grinned and said 'love'. And you wouldn't tell me who you were in love with, and it almost killed me, plus," and he grins, "you were REALLY annoying. So I was kind of glad when Yugi convinced you to break up with them, but now I think you should have stuck with it." He looks back at me. "I mean, real love only comes once in a long while, right?"  
  
I shrug, trying hard not to show what's going on in my head. "You know what, Tristan, I think you might actually have gotten something right for a change." I sigh a little, then look back up at him with a bit of a mocking smile.  
  
"The problem with love is that you just can't get rid of it when you'd like to," I begin. "You never get it at the right time, and then you can't get rid of it, even if you want to---it kind of sticks, doesn't it?"  
  
You nod, still looking out the window, and we sit in silence for a second until a noise behind me makes us both jump. I turn.  
  
You've stood up suddenly, and you're carefully not looking at me. I feel myself beginning to flush---did you hear me? Could you possibly---?  
  
Tristan pushes himself off the wall and walks around me towards the door.  
  
"Gotta go," he says. "I'm meeting Tea." Passing by, he leans down and pats my shoulder, grins, looks from me to your back and leaves.  
  
I sit in shock. Does he---?  
  
You leave right behind him, knocking a chair almost over in your hurry to get out of the room, and so I sit by myself in an empty classroom, thinking, until the janitor comes in half an hour later and starts cleaning. I get up to leave and nod hello to him, but as I'm about to step out the door, he says, "Joey Wheeler, right?"  
  
I turn and nod. He looks at a piece of paper in his hand and then holds it out to me. "You forgot this."  
  
I take it; see my name written on the top fold in your handwriting. My heart thuds, and I have to leave before my legs start working and I collapse, so a leave the room at a run, and make my way outside where I collapse against the tree and unfold the paper with shaking hands.  
  
I have to say something, it says, I have to reply by some means to what I can hear you saying, but I can hardly write, my hand is shaking so much. Do you mean it? That you never stopped loving me? Because, God, Joey, I've been proud and bitter and weak but I have never, never stopped loving you. I thought I had, thought I'd forgotten you, but it was all resentment at the way you abandoned me eight months ago. I've been foolish and awful and if you can find it in you to forgive me---please forgive me. It's all I can ask, but the way you are speaking right now I dare hope for more---that you still love me.  
  
My hands are shaking so much I drop the letter. Hurriedly, I pick it up from the grass, read it again, and again, and again. My heart is pounding so that I can hardly think, my legs are weak but my only thought is getting to you, so I get up, push myself from the tree and set off at a run.  
  
My breath sobs rough in my throat as I race through the streets, blind to everything around me. A car screeches to a halt to avoid me as I sprint across a street---I have to get to you.  
  
Your mansion looms ahead of me, and I never saw anything so wonderful in my life, but I don't dare stop now. Already you might be regretting the note you wrote, already your bitterness might be working on you again, before I can tell you everything in my head and heart and soul and give it all to you.  
I come to a halt, wheezing, at your door, and my hand trembles as I go to ring the doorbell but the door opens anyway and you are standing there with your eyes blazing.   
I straighten up. "I---I just heard about Serenity and Bakura," I hear myself saying stupidly. "I'm sorry..."  
  
You look at me. "Are you?"  
  
I can't do it anymore.  
  
"Seto," I say, or try to say, but my voice has dropped to a whisper and the world swirls around at me. I start falling, my legs, my body finally rebelling from the stress of the week, of the day, of these past fifteen minutes when all I could do was get to you---but you step forward, I fall into you instead of to my knees. I press my face into your shoulder, feel your hand, incredibly, moving across my back, your arms moving around me until I am clinging to you and you are clinging to me and I hear your rough voice in my ear whispering that you love me.  
  
I look up, into your eyes now blazing with heat, and smile.  
  
***  
  
We stumble into my house, a tangle of arms and legs and silky falls of hair. Somehow we make it to my room, and we fall on the bed, laughing at the pure joy that's running through our blood.  
  
I breathe deeply, my face against your skin. You smell cool and spicy, and I look up into your flaming honeybrown eyes. I prop myself on an elbow and run a hand over your chest and stomach, love the smile that grows lazily on your face.  
  
"Seto." I love my name when you say it.  
  
"What, puppy?"  
  
You smile, and reach up, run a hand along my jaw and over the back of my neck, working your fingers up into my hair.  
  
"Love," you whisper.  
  
"Always," I say. "Always, always."  
  
***  
  
Aria: And thus ends "Persuasion". *sniffs* They're so sweet! I know, I know, that last part wasn't really needed, but I really wanted to add some fluff before I finished this for good. Sigh. But this doesn't mean you readers are off the hook! I want to know what you thought of this, so review and let me know. Cheers! 


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